


in the sea that's painted black

by cascrane (thunder_and_stars)



Category: no sleep in the city of dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29017218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_and_stars/pseuds/cascrane
Summary: Five times the No Sleep kids fell into a large body of water in the middle of a battle, and one time they jumped in voluntarily.





	in the sea that's painted black

**one.**

Key doesn’t mind a lot of things. He tends to go with the flow easily, no matter what. He doesn’t care about being inconvenienced by little things.

That said, he doesn’t necessarily _appreciate_ being tossed over a railing to float dazedly in the shifting currents of the East River while his friends continue to battle a monster above him. He knows he should be helping them. He knows he should be trying to get out of the river. He knows he needs to move, but there’s a pounding in his skull that makes it hard to think, and the wall below the railing he had been so unceremoniously tossed over is sheer and featureless, and he doesn’t know how to get out.

Someone yells from above him, off to the left, past the railing, just out of sight. Another bout of yelling follows it, then is punctuated by a loud cracking of magical energy, a sound he knows very well, and the shouting is done.

A small figure leans over the railing and calls something he can’t make out. Water is filling his ears as he stays half-afloat on his back, most of his body submerged at an odd angle. He tries to lift his head, nearly sinks further, and coughs a little as bitter water fills his mouth. 

He regains use of his limbs slowly, though it takes him a moment to remember that he even has limbs and another to remember what they are for and how to use them, and then paddles over towards the wall carefully.

The figure at the top drops a rope down to him. He looks at it, looks back up, then grabs onto it and half-climbs the wall as the person at the top tries to help by pulling him up. When he finally tumbles over the railing, he processes that the person pulling him up was Maze, who gives him something that isn’t quite a smile and pats him on the back.

Key shakes some of the river out of his waterlogged mop of hair and brushes it back as it plasters onto his forehead uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” Raven calls from where she is standing over with El and Hollis, trying to wrangle something he can’t quite make out, though it is large and struggling and probably what threw him into the water in the first place. 

Key nods shakily before he finds his voice. “Yeah, I’m alright,” he manages, though he’s pretty sure his lips are blue and his skin is almost grey and he’s shaking like a leaf.

“Maze, can you give him a blanket or a sweater or something before he catches his death?” Raven requests, and Key doesn’t have the wherewithal to say that getting him out of the river and getting him warm would probably be easier if they had used magic for it, but all the people with magic are busy (El, Raven, and Hollis, still trying to wrangle something) or completely out of it (Key, standing on the path and staring at nothing), so Key is left to be wrapped in a crinkling space blanket by Maze, who accompanies the foil blanket with an arm around Key’s shoulder, guiding him to sit on a nearby bench.

**two.**

“Stop yelling,” Maze accuses softly over the phone, pulling it away so that the yelling is still audible but not directly against his ear.

“ _Get here like ten fucking minutes ago!_ ” El shouts, punctuated by a loud crashing and something that sounds like water in the background, and then the line clicks dead.

“Nice of him to tell us where he is,” Key says drily, and Maze stifles a snort of laughter.

“I thought you knew where everyone went,” Maze says, and Key mumbles something inaudible and rifles through the large assortment of pendants and things hanging around his neck and wrists, then closes his eyes and tips his head back.

“I think they’re in the park,” Key says finally. Then, he grabs Maze’s hand and slides a metal bracelet onto the other boy’s wrist. “Hold on.”

Before Maze can protest, they stumble a couple steps across one of the paths in Central Park, which is decidedly not where they were before, and Maze has to blink away the disorientation as Key starts running, still gripping his hand and pulling him along.

They make it pretty far through the park before they stumble into exactly where they needed to be, because half of the fence around the reservoir is broken off and halfway in the water. Raven yells something over to them that Maze can’t actually hear, and Key quickly joins her and Jackal in battling the three dragon-like creatures that are hanging around and causing a mess.

Maze ducks out of Key’s grip and stays close to the water, looking for El and anyone else who could use help. Maze can’t do magic, and he really doubts that punching the dragons (well, Raven is calling them some word that Maze can’t pronounce that sounds almost like _wvirzed_ , but he’s going to just call them dragons) is going to be effective, so he’s going to leave the fighting to the mages and handle what he can do.

He helps fish a kid out of the water and returns the boy to his older sister, who seems rather concerned, but the kid is grinning wildly and seems happy enough.

“El?” Maze calls out, looking for the normally very loud teenager.

“Maz?”

Maze leans over the still mostly intact portion of the railing to see El hanging onto part of the mangled railing, mostly in the water.

“Hey, idiot,” Maze says, moving over closer to El and offering him a hand.

“Thanks,” El says as Maze pulls him up, then shakes his head like a wet dog, spraying Maze with water. “At least it’s not winter this time,” he says with a smile, and Maze can’t help but laugh at the memory of El falling through the ice after trying to run across the frozen meer.

“You smell like a wet dog,” Jackal says as he comes over to them. “Both of you, actually.”

“Gee, thanks,” El drawls.

“Is everything dealt with?” Maze asks. Jackal nods.

Raven looks like she spent a fair bit of time in the water too, now that Maze can get a closer look, her hair plastered against her forehead and dripping down into her eyes, clothes clinging to her skin in the same awkward way as El’s.

Key’s sweater is hardened into what looks like metal on one sleeve, which El remedies with a brush of his fingers over the material, earning him a thankful grin from Key.

Maze gives El his t-shirt, leaving him in an old tank top that he’s started wearing as an undershirt after realizing how often they destroy their clothes in the middle of something, and El hits Maze with his wet shirt.

“Why?” Maze asks, trying to shake the water out of his hair.

“You were late,” El says.

“You didn’t tell us where you were!” Maze protests.

“I was a little busy being knocked into the reservoir!” El yells back, and Jackal rolls his eyes and walks away, leaving the two teenagers to stand on the damaged path and argue as Raven and Key try to piece the fencing back together and calm down everyone else in the area.

“You’re an idiot,” Maze tells El again with a fond smile.

“Your idiot,” El counters, and Maze’s smile brightens.

**three.**

Maze thinks vaguely that he should probably fight Jackal for this. He thinks that if Jackal hadn’t decided this was _important_ , but not important enough to come himself, no, just important enough to be delegated down to the teenagers, he wouldn’t be underwater right now,

Then, the cold bites through the distant shock of it all, and he’s suddenly living through it, not observing mindlessly through the bubble of nothingness that surrounds him, and he can’t breathe. Murky water, bitter and salted and _cold_ , forces its way into his lungs.

His eyes snap open, but his vision comes slowly, greyed at the edges and out of focus as his eyes burn.

He’s underwater. He can remember having known that, distant and hard to process, in the back of his head, but now he is suddenly very aware of how _he is underwater_.

His chest hurts. The cold seeps through his very bones and seizes his muscles, his limbs heavy and immobile. He needs to get back to the surface, he thinks, slowly, slower than is probably good. He needs to breathe.

He manages to get his muscles to obey his mind, finally, and forces himself up until his head breaks through the surface. He floats there for a second, trying to paddle, mostly on his back, gasping for air.

“-therfucker!” Some voice is yelling from somewhere Maze can’t see, the words muffled through the water that covers most of his head and fills his ears with a rushing noise.

“Maze?”

That’s a different voice, softer, closer. He blinks again, a couple times, then glances around.

“Maze?”

A boy is kneeling in front of him on a little patch of ice that probably shouldn’t be supporting his weight, looking at Maze through a mop of blond hair, concerned and tired. He holds out a hand to Maze.

“Key?” 

“Yeah, it’s me,” the boy -- Key -- says. “Come on, let’s get you out of the water, eh?”

“A’ight,” Maze mumbles, soft and slurred. He grabs onto Key’s proffered hand feebly and lets Key pull him up to join him on the little patch of ice, which doesn’t actually seem very cold.

“Fuck!” That’s the same, distant voice, the first one. Maze glances up again, brushing sodden hair out of his eyes, and sees El, not all that far away, leaning over the back edge of the ferry, and cursing loudly, which isn’t exactly out of the ordinary.

“We’re going back to the dock!” Key calls, louder than Maze thinks he’s ever heard Key being. “We’ll meet you there.”

El frowns, presumably -- it’s hard to tell at the distance -- then nods and yells something back, but Maze has tuned out by that point. Key steers them back to the dock that they had left from and watches carefully as Maze climbs the ladder, then follows.

“They’ll turn the ferry around, probably,” Key tells Maze as they sit on a bench. “El’ll be back soon.”

Maze only nods, then shivers as the wind picks up. Key waves a hand and quickly dries both of their clothes magically. Ten minutes later, the ferry docks back where it started, everyone onboard seeming very confused, and El hops off and throws his arms around Maze and Key before either of them can react.

It’s strange, for a second. El isn’t normally the most tactile, touchy-feely one of them. Key and El are very different, but also very similar in that aspect. Maze is the one who pats shoulders and tousles hair and holds hands and wraps people into hugs.

“Why aren’t you wet?” El asks as he pulls back, and Maze raises an eyebrow.

“I could always hop into the river again,” Maze offers. “Maybe this time I’ll take you with me,” he adds, pretending to wrestle El towards the railing that lies between them and the river.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

**four.**

“What?” Jackal asks, looking up and blinking dumbly.

Hollis repeats their strangled yell, and it doesn’t make any more sense this time.

Jackal just blinks again.

“Hollis, fucking move,” Raven yells, giving them a rather rough push to the shoulder in the direction of the water -- they’re standing on the sand in Rockaway -- and before Jackal can process anything else, Raven all but barrels into him and knocks the two of them into the water, followed closely by Hollis.

Nicky is still standing in the sand, Jackal thinks, because they’re not in the water with them.

Jackal sits up, spluttering, trying to cough up the water he had inhaled, and finds Raven standing behind him, water all the way to her waist, hand on Jackal’s shoulder. He tries not to think about being ten and running into the water with Leah.

He glances over at Hollis, who looks unfairly composed for someone who just practically fell into the ocean. His vision carves a line all the way to the shore then, where flames are rising and lapping across the sand, kept at bay by only the shifting tide.

Nicky is standing right in the middle of it, eyes blazing some kind of pale blue-white fire, more threatening than Jackal has ever seen, and they’re still trying to battle the horde of little creatures that fling themselves at Nicky’s legs with a strange kind of anger.

“Where are the boys?” Jackal asks Raven. 

“They’re dealing with something at the Holland Tunnel,” she reports. “Mal took Liza and the kids out to map _kr cstrellan_. It’s just us.”

“Great,” Jackal mutters, trying to stand and promptly getting knocked over by a small wave, which makes Raven laugh and Hollis smile, trying to hide it behind their fingers.

Raven manages to summon up what looks like a thin shell of water, then charges back into the fire before Jackal can even try to stop her, not that he would have had much like. He doesn’t try to follow. Jackal, unlike Nicky, is not made of fire, nor is he strengthened by standing in the midst of a roaring inferno.

Hollis seems to be trying to tap into the nature of the water itself, willing the tide along to help send waves crashing into the flames, careful of where Nicky is, trying to drown all the little flaming creatures around them.

Raven only makes it into the fire for less than half a minute before the shell of water is burned away and she ends up being carried back into the tumbling waves by the tides Hollis has controlled.

“Nicky, get back,” Raven calls, catching Hollis’s eye, and Nicky looks confused for a second, then starts running, and Hollis sends a giant wave crashing over the beach and its fire, the water just lapping at Nicky’s heels as the little creatures disappear and the tide draws back.

Nicky stands on the sand as Raven and Jackal try to pick themselves up from the water carefully, and Jackal just manages to not get knocked over by another wave. The little laughing noise from Hollis makes Jackal think that Hollis might have made this one, but they walk carefully over, always composed, as if the water respects their presence, and helps Raven and Jackal up and out of the water to join Nicky.

Nicky laughs at the three of them -- soaked in saltwater and dripping onto the ground -- as they get on the train and earn not a single strange look. It’s nearing four in the morning. Jackal thinks people on the train at four in the morning have seen a lot worse and a lot weirder than three people who just jumped in the water fully dressed.

**five.**

“I swear to _gods_ , Malachi!” Jackal calls over the din in an aborted yell as something barrels into his side. “Would be really nice if you could give us some help over here!”

“I’m a little fucking busy myself, thanks,” Mal shoots back easily, followed by a string of curses in Ithraill and a rather rude hand gesture.

“Maeli,” a voice calls, almost yelling, but softer, quieter, and Mal whips around to see Cyr staring at him, eyes wide as blood mats into his pale hair, mostly lying on the ground, limbs sprawled out messily.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Malachi asks as he pulls his younger brother to his feel. Cyrellai looks pale and shaky, even without the head wound and blood loss. There’s a reason he’s not supposed to use his magic during the day, and they both know it, but battles kind of throw a wrench in any plan they may have had.

“Draega,” Cyr says, still speaking softly, hand resting against his still-heaving chest. “Punched it in the nose and it ran off.”

“Is it a shark now?” Mal asks with an arched eyebrow, and Cyr swats at his arm and steadies himself on his feet.

Malachi decides to take the brief second of calm to look out over the rest of the area. They’re in lower Manhattan, right on the tip of the island, scattered across the grass, not far from the river, fighting a wild assortment of creatures that seem to have ripped a new hole in spatial reality in order to cross through.

Hollis is standing against a tree, back pressed against the bole, eyes closed and focusing on something Mal doesn’t have the time or energy to try to figure out. Key is doing his patented whirlwind of death trick, spinning and dodging through the area with an onyx dagger in each hand, magic shimmering in an almost-shield around him.

Maze and El are standing back to back on one edge of the field, trying to ward off a handful of creatures that have surrounded them. Neither of them is using magic, and Maze is waving around a rather large stick and alternating ineffective hits with barely more effective punches while El swings around a sword. Malachi doesn’t know where El got the sword, and he doesn’t think he wants to.

Nicky is off on their own, setting fire to large areas. Raven’s shooting off bolts of crackling energy and helping Jackal turn his metal baseball bat into what is effectively a taser. Andy’s mostly trying to keep up shields and things, which isn’t exactly his specialty, and healing any injuries, and everyone seems to be holding their ground.

The Draega that had attacked Cyr returns suddenly, backing the two of them back against the railing that keeps people from falling into the river. Mal throws up a shield, but then, before he or Cyr can do anything else, the world shifts suddenly.

Water rises up out of the river, catches Malachi, and pulls him down in, along with Cyr.

He’s floating underwater, looking at the spirit of the river right before him. Cyr is next to him, still somewhat bloody, hair billowing out like he’s been electrocuted, eyes closed and not breathing, not like Mal.

“Can you let my brother go?” he asks the river spirit. “He’s not like me.”

The dark figure seems to nod, and then Cyr is gone.

 _You need help._ The voice shows up in his head, no longer frightening and unfamiliar, and Mal nods.

“Are you offering help?”

 _I could be_.

“I need to get back to my friends, please. I can’t stay here and leave them to fight.”

_You could._

“I can’t, really,” Mal insists. “I need to take care of my little brother.”

_We will help you when the time comes, when it is most needed. I will find you._

And then Mal is on the grass again, a couple feet from the railing, and there is a piece of green sea glass in his hand. He drops it into his pocket quickly, takes a second to note that somehow, only his hair and his socks are wet, and then throws himself back into the fighting with the rest of them.

“Where the fuck did you go?” Jackal asks him, as they end up side by side again, throwing magic and punches around easily, trying to push back any enemies they can.

Malachi shrugs.

Ten minutes later, when half of them are knocked down and the enemies seem to be multiplying every second, a wave of water swells up, and Jackal looks over to Mal in awe and only receives a wild grin in response as they keep fighting.

**plus one.**

“This is ridiculous,” El says as they gather on the pier in the dark.

“Yes,” Key says simply with a flash of a smile that they can barely make out in the dark.

“We’re not going to get caught,” Raven reassures Maze for what seems to be the hundredth time. He does not look particularly convinced.

“Who, exactly, do you think is going to stop us?” El asks Maze, who shrugs helplessly. 

“Two minutes,” Hollis says softly, and Jack repeats the words as a loud cheer.

“Nobody’s even down here,” Raven says. “Everyone is centered in Times Square. Key’s putting up an invisibility charm. Nicky will be our lookout as they run fireworks. Now, everyone, get ready.”

El grips Maze’s hand, lacing their fingers together tightly. Raven starts whispering faint words and twisting her fingers, and glowing bands appear around everyone’s wrists and ankles, magical bracelets that stand out in the darkness of almost-midnight.

Jackal and Raven start moving around, helping people step over the railing onto the edge and reminding everyone to remove their sweaters or long pants or any other ridiculous and impractical thing they’re wearing. Jackal sets a faint glow into the entire area, not enough to ruin the glow of the bracelets or the darkness of the night, but enough to see each other.

“Thirty seconds,” Hollis says. Everyone is in a t-shirt or tank top and shorts, bare feet on the wooden edge of the dock that they’re decidedly not meant to be on. Everyone except Mal, that is, because Mal is still wearing _socks_ for some ungodly reason that nobody wants to know.

_Ten._

Nicky sends up a small ball of energy that hovers in the air above the water as everyone starts counting down loudly.

_Nine._

Raven and Jackal shove each other, loud and playful, nearly both falling in.

 _Eight_. 

Cyr decides that nine seconds is enough time to try to pull his too-long hair back into a ponytail, which is not true, so he gives up rather quickly.

 _Seven_.

“It’s almost fucking over!” Malachi yells loudly.

 _Six_.

Key turns so he’s standing backwards, heels right at the edge.

 _Five_.

Hollis snaps their fingers and an old charm lights up their eyes, glowing a shifting blue-green-white that looks impossible and amazing in the darkness.

_Four._

Aydan mumbles something faintly about this being stupid and reckless.

_Three._

Nya cheers so loud that nobody can hear the counting for a second.

_Two._

El squeezes Maze’s hand again, greeted by a smile.

_One._

Someone screams, loud and happy and wondrous.

 _Zero_.

They all jump.

“Happy fucking New Year!” Malachi yells as he jumps, seeming to hang in the air for a second.

Nicky flicks their wrist and the little ball of energy explodes into an astounding rainbow of fireworks that flickers brilliantly and refracts against the water.

Key executes a near perfect backflip and lands in the water happily, smiling brightly.

El and Maze hit the water together, fingers still laced together, and both almost scream at the shock of the cold.

They all stay in the water for a minute, paddling just enough to stay afloat, treading water. The bands of magic glow even underwater. Malachi drags Jackal underwater, and the two of them manage to drag Raven into a childish contest of crashing waves into each other, and not a single one of them can stop smiling.


End file.
